“It's going to be good to serve in a place where there are women,” Bradley said. “I can't believe how long I've gone here, never seeing a woman. Well, it seemed like it, anyway. I guess there were women around, had to be.”
“You know,” the woman driving said. “Nearly every person who gets out of this taxi says that.”
Bradley chuckled and stared out the window, falling silent. There wasn't much need to speak. He was going to leave all of this place behind, never see the driver again. Never have to worry about the stupid base or any of its shortcomings. He was glad that soon, on his days off, he’d be able to go somewhere exciting instead of this small settlement.
One of the worst parts of the stumps was that it was so far from anywhere. There just wasn't anything else around. Sure, Vegas wasn't that far away, but that didn't mean that it was easily accessible. It was hours away, and that meant renting a car.
“I know you'll be glad to be gone,” the woman said.
She was good looking, Bradley thought, the way that she had so many curves. She had short brown hair and a bright smile. Unlike the rest of the people who inhabited the bleak landscape, this one hadn't lost the part of themselves people lose when things are bad around them.
“I'll sure as hell be glad to put all of this behind me,” Bradley said. “I guess I'm sorry we never ran into each other before. Leaving the base was never high on my priority list.”
The driver chuckled, and Bradley realized she was much better looking than he had previously imagined. It made him feel strange to know that someone he might have been interested in could have been hiding under his nose the whole time.
When they pulled up to the base, Bradley got out and paid the woman sheepishly.
“Well, sailor,” the woman said. “I hope whatever port you end up in is better than this one.”
Bradley smiled and turned to walk away without looking back. He heard the cab drive out of the parking lot, the woman turned on some soft jazz music and rolled down the windows.
As Bradley walked into the small room he shared with another SEAL, he was tackled from behind.
“You'll never believe where they're sending your sorry ass.”
It was TJ, his roommate. TJ liked to wrestle Bradley out of nowhere. It was something that military people did to pass the time, and although Bradley had grown used to it, he still struggled with not actually losing his temper when it happened to him.
“What the fuck, TJ,” Bradley said as he tossed him against the wall with a thud. “I know I've told you not to jump on me like that. I don't know what the fuck your deal is with having to have the jump on me to get anywhere in a wrestling match.”
“You fucker!” TJ responded. “You always have to use brute strength!”
TJ sat against the wall, panting; Bradley had knocked the breath out of him when he'd flung him against the wall.
“So,” Bradley asked. “Where am I going?”
“Hawaii,” TJ said.
Bradley let out a whoop and jumped high into the air. TJ laughed, and they both pulled a bottle of booze out of their wall lockers and started drinking. It was always good to celebrate with friends when things started to go better.
“So where are you going,” Bradley asked. “Anywhere good?”
TJ shrugged.
“Just back to the coast. San Diego. Nothing big. You, my friend, are going out to the island of skirts and beaches. Can you imagine all of the fun you're going to have out there?”
Bradley tried to shrug like TJ had, but TJ wouldn't let him.
“It's a big deal!” TJ said. “I know that you like to be a modest guy, but it's a big deal!”
Bradley supposed it was a big deal. He didn't particularly like TJ, although TJ wasn't a bad guy. It was the stumps that had turned his attitude bad. He needed a change of pace, a change of place. There was more to life than just sitting around the desert.
“We should head down to the enlisted bar and get a drink,” TJ said.
Bradley shook his head in agreement.
“I haven't been to that place since the first day I got to this terrible base. I guess it wouldn't hurt to go out as I came in, with a well-watered down whiskey served by a sour faced bartender.”
TJ laughed. The on base bar was notorious for having less than friendly service. Something about serving disgruntled Marines beer all day and night turned their temperament less than friendly.
When they got down to the local canteen Bradley regretted coming, and so did TJ. The bar was full of depressed looking Marines who, undoubtedly, just wanted to get the fuck out of the stumps to another duty station that wasn't in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but predatory businesses and terrible people on the other side of the base's gate. TJ and Bradley had a few drinks and then decided to head back to the barracks.
“You know,” TJ said. “I know I won't miss this place at all. But at the same time, I also know that I'll have a hard time describing what it was, and what went on here. People think they know what life is when it's bleak, but they don't. Not like here.”
Bradley was quiet. TJ had operated in and around the Middle East for several years, so his perspective on life was very different from the average person’s.
“I know what you mean,” Bradley said. “But who cares, man. We'll get the hell out of here and never look back. Unlike all of the people who are more or less stuck here. I mean, who the fuck would want to live in this place?”
TJ chuckled. They talked about how people got stuck living outside of the gates after they got out of the military. Almost as if they needed someone to tell them how to live or they just couldn't manage it on their own; so instead of getting away from the base, they clung to it like a life raft. It made Bradley depressed to think about, but he was feeling better by the time they climbed the barracks winding stairs to their room.
They didn't have long now until it would be time go, and that was something that Bradley needed to have happen. It felt like another day in the God forsaken desert would smother him.
Chapter Two
The flight to Hawaii wasn't long. Bradley had a few drinks at the airport, then boarded the plane. Before he knew it, he was waking up as the aircraft touched down. Bradley's head spun as he walked down the stairs to the tarmac. Everything around him was green, and birds were everywhere. It was a far cry from Southern California. There were people everywhere, too, people that smiled and nodded at him. It wasn't like the stumps at all, where people had acted like everyone was garbage, or out to get them—which largely had been true.
“Excuse me, sir,” a young man said. “I think you're Bradley. I'm here to take you to the base.”
Bradley nodded and followed the young man. Often times the SEALs would have a special operative sent out to chauffeur a new member to their unit; it was easier than dealing with people getting lost, or drunk at the bar. On the way to the base, Bradley was quiet. He didn't want to bother the guy driving him around—Bradley didn't know if the driver had volunteered and was happy to be away from the base, or if it was one of those things where he'd drawn the shortest straw.
“How are you doing back there?”
It took Bradley a moment to register that the driver had spoken to him. Bradley was taken in by all the green around him, all the birds in the air, and there were what seemed to be small lizards running up and down the trunks of some of the trees. Life here was going to be very different than things at the stumps, and Bradley was grateful for that. It took Bradley a moment to rouse himself from thought to be able to respond.
“Oh, I'm doing all right,” Bradley said. “It's just that this place is so different from my last base.”
“Where are you coming from?” the driver asked. “By the way, my name is James.”
“Hey, James,” Bradley said. “Nice to meet you. I'm coming from the stumps. It's a place--”
James cut him off.
“I was stationed there for a few years, so I know all about it,” James said. “And
yes, this place really is way, way better than that dump of a place. Here, although you're on an island, at least there is so much to do you'll never run out of things. Well, I guess you can get pretty close to doing everything, or so some of the people who have been here awhile tell me. But I'm not so sure I believe it.”
The base right in front of them now, and Bradley was anxious to see how the accommodations were. James, as if reading Bradley's mind, piped up with exactly the information Bradley wanted to know.
“The barracks aren't bad,” James said. “Nothing like what you're used to at the stumps. Everything in them works, and all the troops here are on the same page. It isn't like back at the stumps where half of the personnel have given up on life.”
Bradley nodded and felt a little more put at ease.
“What do you do, James?” Bradley asked.
“Not a whole lot,” James said. “I used to be large and in charge, but then I took shrapnel to the knee during an oil hop and haven't been the same since. Now I'm just waiting to process out—medical separation.”
Bradley had heard similar stories, where people who had been legitimately injured had to wait forever to process out of the Army because the military took so long to do anything.
“What's an oil hop?” Bradley asked.
James chuckled.
“Friend, you'll get to know all about those,” he said. “But I'll clue you in a little in advance if you promise not to go around telling everyone I spilled the beans. Oil hops are actually all classified information, so this talk needs to stay super-secret, just between us as professionals.”
Bradley nodded in agreement, and James continued.
“Well, it's pretty much seizing an oil rig. It seems simple enough, but there are a bunch of things that can go wrong. And what can go wrong, usually does. So the opposition forces you'll face—mostly pirates and their ilk—will light fire to the structures and take hostages before you get there. All kinds of craziness. And then when you get there you'll have to wait around on standby, seeing if they'll actually use you or not. A lot of the time the negotiators that they bring in will end the whole thing without a shot fired. Other times, though, they'll send in the SEALs to take care of business. And that's about the only time I've been given clearance to shoot anyone I wanted. Of course, you'll want to avoid any collateral damage as it leaves a bad taste in the mouths of the locals. Although I've heard that, as of late, the local people have given a whole lot less of a fuck what happens on the oil rigs.”
“Do you think they'll just start blowing them up and starting over?” Bradley asked. “I was reading about this the other night, about how it's really expensive to run these operations all the time, and how it's sometimes cheaper for a company to do the whole thing in and start over.”
James laughed from his seat behind the wheel without looking back at Bradley. It was evident that he wasn't trying to have a chuckle at Bradley's expense but just couldn't help himself.
“No, that's all just propaganda to make people think twice about seizing an oil rig, and I guess it has aided in the decline of such things. But to answer your question, the rigs are just too damn expensive to give up like that. As much as the oil people would love to blow them up when the pirates take them, they can't. There is a bunch of data a rig collects as it drills, and also as it pumps up the oil. This data is even more valuable to the companies than the crude. So no, they'll still need SEALs, at least for the foreseeable future.”
As they made their way through the base's security checkpoint, Bradley saw one of the most beautiful looking women he'd ever seen walking down the base's main strip with what must have been her father. Her father was obviously the General in charge of the base.
“Who is that?” Bradley asked.
James chuckled.
“Her name is Jasmine,” James said. “And let me tell you something, if you go after her and don't have the best intentions, the people around you will know, and the old man will be made aware of this in no time flat.”
Bradley was listening, but he didn't really hear James and James knew it.
“Hey, Bradley,” James said. “I know that we SEALs like to have hard heads and even harder hard-ons, but you've got to listen to me right now. Jasmine is kind of off limits. I don't mean to tell you what to do, and hell, if you really want to find out for yourself, then maybe you should. I'm just saying, though, that Jasmine has cost several good SEALs I know a promotion, and a few of them have even lost rank over it. There is something to be said for tact if you do think you need to find out for yourself what's going on with the General's daughter.”
“Jasmine,” Bradley said. “That's a hell of a name.”
James just chuckled and shook his head as they pulled up to the barracks.
“You'll be bunking with me for now,” James said. “At least until I get out of here, then you'll have the room to yourself. The SEALs here don't have to share rooms usually, but you might end up with a roommate after me, just as well, because you are the new kid on the block here. Let me know if you need anything.”
Bradley came back to the real world, his mind being pulled away from Jasmine for the first time since he saw her with her long black hair and hourglass shaped figure.
“So, should I check in with the people in charge?” Bradley asked James.
“I would,” James replied. “They'll most likely give you some kind of lame brief about the island and how under every rock there is a semi-poisonous creature waiting to strike. I'm not sure how much I'd buy into all of that. I mean, I've been all over the island, doing all kinds of crazy things, and I think I got poison ivy one time—but that was it.”
Bradley thanked James for the ride and, after depositing his gear and personal effects in his room, made his way to the duty station where he would need to check into the unit. When he got there, no one was home. Bradley sat around the lobby a little bit until he realized it was Friday around five. That meant the people who were supposed to be here had either taken off early and forgotten to lock up, or that they were hiding somewhere until the last minutes ticked by and they were finally released to go about their weekend.
“Hey there!”
A voice came from the back of the duty station. It was an old Sergeant, apparently ready to be off for the weekend. Bradley stood and shook his hand, not wanting to drag out the introduction any longer than the Sergeant wanted. The Sergeant looked him up and down, and then spoke.
“Look,” the Sergeant said. “It's Friday afternoon, and I need to get a fucking drink. It's been a long day. I assume that James showed you your room and you're settled?”
“For the most part,” Bradley said.
“Well, good then,” the other man replied. “Just stay out of trouble for the weekend, and you'll start training Monday. They'll fill you in on all the questions I can't answer right now, and they'll also clue you in on what you need to focus on while you're here to make it more than likely you won't die on your first oil hop.”
With that, the man turned and left. Bradley wasn't sure what to do as he walked out onto the sidewalk, the base around him filled with lush vegetation and laughter. Back in the stumps, it was rare that anyone was cut to their weekend free time so quickly or so thoroughly. There was always the old talk about how if anyone did anything wrong everyone would be called back and no one would have any freer time again, ever. So instead of going out right away like Bradley knew he should have, he felt lulled into a false sense of security. Maybe it was Jasmine still throwing him off with how good she looked, and how unobtainable she seemed, or maybe it was something else, but, like a new join who doesn't know what's going on, Bradley headed back to his room and settled his belongings into various drawers and other receptacles.
For a few hours Bradley was left his own devices, but right when he was dressed and ready to head out the door, a knock came.
“Fucking Christ,” Bradley said under his breath. “I knew I should have hit the town already.”
When Br
adley opened the door, it was James standing outside.
“Well, shit,” James said. “I was hoping you'd be gone. The General wants to speak with you over dinner. It's nothing big, and although it might sound cool, it's actually just a giant waste of your night that will roll right into a giant waste of your weekend.”
“What should I do?” Bradley asked weakly, hoping that James would be able to get him out of it.
“You have to go, pal,” James said. “There is no way around it now. The good news is that Jasmine will be there with the General; I guess they want some daughter father bonding time while you get talked to about what we're doing in the southwest Pacific. I'm not sure if that's exactly legal or not, but it doesn't seem to bother anyone but me.”
They both chuckled at this and then headed to James' vehicle. Bradley was a little miffed that he was having his first night on base in Hawaii completely highjacked by the General, but at the same time, he knew that if this didn't happen now, it was going to have to happen later. There seemed to be some sort of unwritten code when it came to SEALs that said whoever was in charge of your new duty station would pull you into an unnecessary meeting of some kind and make that meeting last for a very long time. Bradley was hoping that, because it was Friday evening, things wouldn't last that long.
Chapter Three
When they got to the officer's club, James pulled over and let Bradley out without saying anything. There really wasn't much to say. They both knew that the night could go well, maybe even include some alone time for Jasmine and Bradley, or it could end up with Bradley sitting and listening to an aging General recount all of his glory days, one by one.
When Bradley walked into the officer's club, he realized that the General had had it shut down for the night. Out on the patio sat the beautiful Jasmine and her father with their backs to Bradley, although they'd surely heard him walk in. Bradley looked around for the wait staff he knew would be hidden out of sight until needed but didn't see anyone. That meant that his plate was already out there waiting for him, and any feet dragging would only make his food cold. There was no way to delay what was about to happen without looking like a coward and a fool, so Bradley bravely walked up to the table and waited to be acknowledged.
The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance Page 66